


Our Last Ride

by Sinistretoile



Series: Love Letters from Captain Nicholls [4]
Category: War Horse (2011)
Genre: F/M, Horseback Riding, Implied Sexual Content, Love, Love Letters, Object Insertion, Riding Crops, Romance, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3564152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinistretoile/pseuds/Sinistretoile





	Our Last Ride

My one and only,  
I simply cannot wait to you in the dress you described. It sounds exquisite. You will be the most beautiful bride in the whole of England. This makes my heart happy. The air around the camp is a jovial one.  
The recruits had a day furlough this weekend. Many a lad found a lady's company. I used the time to sketch the things I long to show you but wait for, and to plan our honeymoon. The lads are rife with debaucherous tales. By the tone of your last letter, you enjoyed my expounding of our first time together. So I don't think you will mind my reminiscing of our last ride together. Why am I thinking on that, you may ask?  
We have aquired another horse for the calvary. An impressive example of horse flesh. His chestnut coat reminds me of the mare you ride at my uncle's. I shall be riding him into battle once we get him trained for the battlefield. I have included a sketch of him with this letter. His name is Joey. And I am reminded of our last ride.  
The way your chignon bounced and came loose, allowing tendrils to float about your fair face. The way your breasts bounced wildly. My cock twitches at the memory of it, just as it did that day. The sun loves your hair as much as I do. So beautiful in the light. The look of your slender neck when you threw your head back and laughed joyously. The way your strong thighs gripped the mare's body.  
Another picnic left uneaten, as you gripped the pommel of the saddle and arched your back, your feet spread wide apart. The crack of every smack against your pert backside with my red leather gloves. Do you remember how soft they felt, my lovely one? How much you writhed when I stroked your little cunt with my gloved fingers? God, you were so wet. Positively drenched. Does the memory make you clench your thighs? I have grown painfully hard just remembering.  
Dear girl, the way your cries sang out after the whistle of the riding crop. The exquisite way it left red lines criss-crossed against your blushing pink backside. Oh my sweet, how you squealed and arched when I slid the handle inside you. I should like to do that again. I could not wait to get back to my uncle's to take you. You impaled yourself upon my cock and rode me as hard as any stallion. Your thighs tight around my hips while I bucked and you rode. Dearest one, I have no shame in telling you that I will pleasure myself to this memory when this letter is done.  
I have included a second sketch. From memory. You upon your mare that day. I miss so, my heart. I cannot wait to return to my dear England and make you my bride. Your memory keeps me warm. Your love keeps me fighting. God's grace keeps me protected.

With all my heart,  
Captain James Nicholls


End file.
